


a reunion realised

by nightbloomings



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbloomings/pseuds/nightbloomings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian would have gladly followed Hawke, wherever she'd spent the last hours, if only to spend the time with her. Would that he could turn the calendars back, month by month, to a time when he'd been free to do nothing else, just to live it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Though it had been two years since he'd seen it, Sebastian recognised her red hair in an instant. He'd always known that he would think it to be hers if ever he saw that shade again, and maybe with luck he'd be right.

As it happened, this time, he was.

He watched her for a moment, bidding his heart to settle, until she turned away from the vendor's stall in front of her and met his eyes. 

"Sebastian!" she called to him, striding across the market square. "Maker's breath, to see you again..."

She reached for Sebastian, to draw him towards her, but she was thwarted by the meaty, metal-clad arm of his First Guard as it struck out in front of his chest. She stopped short and glanced from the guard's arm to Sebastian, wearing a puzzled expression.

Sebastian huffed and swatted the arm away, annoyed. In fairness, Sebastian knew, the guard was doing his job, protecting his charge. But it was _her_ ; she of the most well-buried corners of his heart and his subconscious. She was no threat to anything other than the stately decorum with which he was expected to conduct himself now.

"Hawke," Sebastian said warmly, stepping forward to embrace her. Her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, and he tried, desperately, to focus on anything other than the feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest. 

They had hugged only once before, after Leandra. He'd spent close to a sennight in a spare room at the estate, offering Hawke company and solace, and on the last morning, she'd hugged him, tightly, and for a long time, but there'd been a white lacquered chestplate between them... among other, intangible things.

He'd dreamt of her for years--of her ruddy hair, her plush lips, her full breasts, her broad hips--since their first meeting nearly a decade ago, and often since. Since his departure from Kirkwall, he'd indulged himself more and more, initially sating himself in hand, alone in bed and desperate for even that weak relief. And then, once vows were no longer a consideration, he occasionally sought that relief between the legs of another woman. It had at first felt like a shameful return to his ways before exile, but it grew easier to accept and make peace with each time, as it became more a means of keeping Hawke close, rather than a selfish indulgence. He’d thought always of her.

And he’d hoped—Maker, he’d hoped—that he might see her again on this, his first visit to Kirkwall with the title to his name. There had been earlier opportunities, of course—the appointment of the new Viscount, the reopening of the Chantry, and countless balls and feasts. It all had felt too soon, but it was growing increasingly difficult to deny the invitations, particularly those of the Viscount, and so there he was, at the threshold of Hightown.

Still it felt too soon… until that moment when he met her eye again. Now, as she stood in front of him, he wondered how he’d been so daft as to stay away for so long.

“It’s been a long time.”

“Aye, it has.”

Hawke’s eyes passed over the contingent of guards at Sebastian’s back. He’d made certain the entourage was subtle—no banners, no heraldry, nothing that might indicate origin or station—for a lone man accompanied by eight guardsmen in Kirkwall was nothing if not a target as it was; no need to advertise exactly how much he might be taken for.

“And much has changed.”

Sebastian nodded, the corner of his mouth hitching upwards. “That, too.”

Hawke returned the smile, but wider, warmer—that same one he’d committed to memory the first he’d seen it. “Well, on your end, anyhow. I’m much the same, sadly.”

 _And still as close to perfect as the Maker dares allow._ “Oh? Kirkwall’s as boring as it ever was, then?”

She laughed, and Sebastian’s gut swooped to hear it. For all of his dreams and memories, his subconscious had never been able to rightly imitate the exact lilt of her laugh; it was a visceral thing, not something he'd ever fully forget, but the sound of it had been absent from his life for so long, still.

“Even more so,” Hawke replied with a quick wink. “Well? What brings you here?”

Sebastian tilted his head in the direction of the Keep. "The ceaseless insistence of your Viscount Bran."

The lingering smile faded from Hawke's face, and Sebastian didn't know what might've caused it to go. But before he had a chance to wonder on it, she feigned a newer, quicker one and reached out, resting her fingertips on Sebastian's lower arm. 

"Do you have a free night? Tonight, maybe? It's been so long since I've had anyone round for supper... I'm sure Orana would love the chance to cook something more than a bit of stew again."

"Hawke, I would reschedule plans with Andraste Herself to make time for you," Sebastian said. It wasn't hyperbole; it _was_ a shade away from blasphemy, but he knew it to be true regardless. "Tonight it is."

"Oh, excellent--though, if you were to have dinner plans with the Bride of the Maker, by all means... I doubt I'm worth the risk of eternal life in the Void."

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. "Few things in life truly are, but I'd wager you, in fact, are one of them."

Hawke stood before him, head cocked to one side, her expression enigmatic. "Alright then," she said quietly, a moment later. "Come round when you're free."

Sebastian nodded and turned to watch after her as she moved past him and his guards, heading for the stairs leading to Lowtown. his eyes drifted, naturally, to her waist, curving down over her hip to her arse in those dark leathers she seemed to still favour. He wanted nothing more than to touch her, finally--to run his hands over the path his eyes had just cut, to feel the supple muscle shift under her skin when he made her writhe, to kiss that coy smile from her lips as he swallowed the cries he drew out of her. And he would--after dinner, or before, or instead of, whenever at all--if she'd have him.


	2. Chapter 2

_'Come round when you're free,'_ Hawke had said. Sebastian had been 'free' all afternoon, not having any appointments until the following day. He'd have gladly followed Hawke, wherever she'd spent the last hours, if only to spend the time with her. Would that he could turn the calendars back, month by month, to a time when he'd been free to do nothing else, just to live it again. 

Instead, he presented himself at the Hawke estate an hour or so before sunset. He'd expected Bodahn to answer the door, and he'd readied himself for the dwarf's inevitable barrage of pleasantries and polite questions, but when the door swung open, he was greeted by Hawke. 

"You'll have to excuse me, Your Highness--most of my help up and left for Orlais some time ago, so I'm afraid there's no one here to announce your presence to me except for, well, me," Hawke said with a small shrug. 

"That is a shame," Sebastian replied, moving through the door. "Poor Atlo must be just lost without Sandal as company." 

At the mention of his name, the dog bounded forward from where he sat at the far end of the foyer. He barked twice at Sebastian, who bent down to greet him. 

"Looking as regal and noble as ever, Serah Atlo." 

"If a bit grey about the face," Hawke added. "He's not as spritely as he once was, but he doesn't seem to agree." 

Atlo barked again, swiping his broad tongue across the back of Sebastian's hand, before trotting over to the fireplace and settling down. Sebastian straightened and looked around the foyer--it looked the same as he remembered: warm and inviting, and somehow full of life, despite its size, and despite the ever-dwindling number of inhabitants. 

Hawke ushered him through the foyer and down the corridor that led to the larder. Sebastian remembered the way; he'd cut a path between Hawke's bedroom and the larder twice daily during his sennight at the estate. More than a few times, the trays bore nearly as much food on the return trips as they had on their way out the larder, but still he did it. 

"Orana, you remember Sebastian, of course," Hawke said, gesturing to the girl. 

She stood before the pit, spinning a roast half as large as herself slowly over the fire. She turned around suddenly at Hawke's voice, wringing her hands and fumbling to wipe them on her apron. 

"Oh! Oh, yes, Brother Vael. I mean, Prince Vael. Your Highness," she stammered, curtseying in front of Sebastian. 

"Orana, please," Sebastian said, reaching for her hand and kissing the back of it lightly. "My friends still call me Sebastian; the title has no place here." 

Orana nodded and gave a quick smile. "I-it's good to see you again," she said before turning back to the pit. 

Hawke moved behind Orana to the wine rack on the other side of the pit, reaching up and pulling down a bottle. "Now," she said, pausing to wipe away dust from the bottle's label, "I've no idea what luxurious sorts of wine you're used to, up in Starkhaven, but as far as I know, the Hawke estate still boasts the best wine cellar in Kirkwall. None of it due to my curation, of course, but I'm sure there's something here that suits your princely tastes." 

Sebastian chuckled and reached for the bottle of wine to examine it. The label was in Orlesian, which he knew fluently, but it may as well have been in Arcanum for as much as he understood about varietals of wine. 

"Truthfully, when one's subsisted on the table wine from the Chantry kitchens for the majority of one's life, one tends to prefer just about anything else." 

"All the better, then." Hawke reached for two goblets and then gestured to the back of the larder with her shoulder. She led Sebastian through to the dining hall, setting the goblets in front of two already-set places at the large table. There'd been many dinners at that table, over the years; many nights spent eating and drinking and laughing together. And though, at the time, Sebastian had felt on the periphery of it all--an observer, not quite a participant--he remembered those nights fondly now. 

"I know it's a bit... how do the Orlesians put it? _Gauche?_ To sit at the table before the meal is served, but--" 

"Hawke," Sebastian interjected, "you needn't fret. I'm not much changed, even though my circumstances may be. I'm here to visit with you, not to judge your skills as a hostess." 

Hawke opened her mouth as if to respond, but she didn't speak; instead she gave a quick smile and sat down. "Then in that case, Vael, you're welcome to pour that wine whenever you're ready."


	3. Chapter 3

They sat and reminisced, and laughed, and drank for hours, over dinner and then, later, in the lounge. At first Sebastian marvelled at how it felt like nothing had changed between them, how they'd picked up where they'd left off before the Chantry explosion, but then the realisation struck him: things _had_ changed. She was still the Champion of Kirkwall, yes, but a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and though her laugh was the same as he'd remembered it, it came to her more easily now. She was relaxed and radiant. And he was no longer affirmed under oath.

Instead, he was a prince, crowned and titled, deigned and expected to take what he wanted, as he wanted it, from whomever could provide it. That wasn't his nature, and hadn't been since he was a boy, to be sure, but it would be a falsehood to pretend that the thought hadn't occurred to him on occasion since he first bore the title.

Such as now, as he sat in the plush, deep armchair next to Hawke's, watching as the warmth of the brandy they shared bloomed across her cheeks. Her soft, ruddy hair had been let loose from the topknot she'd worn it in earlier, falling about her shoulders; sometimes she would whirl it idly between her fingers, and each time she did, Sebastian was overwhelmed with the want to replace her fingers with his own, carding through it from her cheek to the back of her head, perhaps gripping into it, pulling it back just a little to better expose the line of her neck as he trailed his way down, down to kiss the pulse that would be pounding between her collarbones. 

Her legs were drawn up underneath her, and sometimes she would extend one outwards to bring the blood back into it, and Sebastian's eyes would travel the length of it, ankle to knee, to thigh, to skin shadowed by the hem of her dress. He imagined following the same path with his hands, fingertips passing over the muscle of her calf, sending shivers up her spine when they grazed the back of her knee, and drawing a soft moan from her lips when they finally reached the warmth at the apex of her thighs.

Yes, Sebastian was changed. The thoughts and desires weren't new to him, not where Hawke was concerned, but he was faced with them now, while she was only a few feet away, and not a conjuration of his desperate imagination.

He was nearly undone by the realisation alone.

He tried to be subtle, to not stare or gawk like a deprived lecher, and yet, when he met her eye next, something in her gaze was different. Knowing, almost; darker, definitely. She must have caught him, looking at her. He felt a blush creep over his cheeks, and he buried his nose in his snifter, pretending to consider the aroma of it.

"Sebastian," Hawke said after a moment, her voice a bit playful. "What are you thinking about?"

Sebastian took another sniff of the brandy and cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what I smell in this... Almond? Vanilla, maybe."

"Mmm. And before you developed such an interest in this relatively uninteresting brandy?"

Sebastian's cheeks burned hotter, but he knew he couldn't keep hiding his face, like an embarrassed child. So, he lifted his head and tilted it back to take a long drink of the brandy. He considered how to answer Hawke--he wanted to answer her truthfully, to tell her how he thought of her; how he'd always thought of her, regardless of his vow; and how he wanted to see those thoughts through. But the words eluded him.

"Why don't I go first, and tell you what I've been thinking about, then, hmm?" Hawke shifted in her chair, leaning over the armrest to face Sebastian. "I've been remembering the way that I'd thought about you before, when you were still in Kirkwall. All good things, of course, but also all things I'd never have dreamed of telling you at the time. They were," she paused, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips, "not appropriate for a man of the cloth to hear about himself."

Sebastian's groin tightened immediately, and he felt his gut twist in on itself. He struggled to keep his eyes level with Hawke's, to stop them from falling upon her cleavage while she sat perched in her chair, arms crossed under her breasts.

She continued. "That's a long time, you know; to want someone, something, that you can't have."

Sebastian cleared his throat. "I do know."

"Oh?"

Hawke had a coy smile on her face, nearly a smirk; he knew exactly what she was playing at, but Maker help him, he was thankful for it. And, as a wave of heady warmth passed through him from that last bit of brandy, he thought to drag it on a little longer. 

"Of course. I was a brother under oath; there were a great many 'somethings'... and 'someones,' that I wanted but couldn't have."

"Tell me one."

"Well," Sebastian said, turning the snifter about in his hands, watching the last sips swirl around the bottom. "Brandy, for one--and scotch, for two. Wine loses its appeal after years of not being allowed to drink anything else."

"And what of the 'someones'?"

"Truthfully, there weren't actually a 'great many' of those. Only two. One was a nobleman's daughter, met early on in my service, and long forgotten. The other has proven to be harder to rid myself of the desire for."

"Shame," Hawke said, bringing the snifter to her mouth and watching him over the lip. "I'm in a similar place myself, funnily enough."

Sebastian selfishly eyed the line of Hawke's neck when she broke eye contact to tilt her head back and drink, and he continued down, down over her collarbones, down towards the swells of her breasts peeking over the scooped neckline of her dress.

"We can commiserate then."

Hawke nodded and put the snifter down on the table between their chairs. "We could," she said, running a hand through her hair and rearranging the ends over one shoulder. She rose then and paused to straighten her dress before moving in front of Sebastian. "Or, we could do something more... constructive, with our short time together."

Sebastian looked up at Hawke from where he sat, his hands itching to reach forward. He wanted to, desperately; to hold her, to pull her into his lap, to kiss her and touch her and fuck her. Yet, he didn't. In his dreams and fantasies it was always so easy--never a question of should, only of when or how. But with her now just inches from his fingertips, he found himself frozen.


	4. Chapter 4

Hawke smiled down at Sebastian and reached forward, carding her fingers through his hair, starting at his temple and running to the back of his head. It was a delicious feeling that sent shivers down his neck, and he closed his eyes to it, leaning into her touch.

And then Hawke's lips were on his, soft and gentle. Sebastian's hands felt heavy in his lap, his mind unsure as to where they belonged in this unfamiliar territory. A sort of tension travelled through him and he slowly balled his hands into tight fists against it as he sat in limbo. He felt clumsy and awkward, and altogether unworthy of the woman before him--until she let out a quiet hum, which brought him back to the present, and finally he reached forward and took her by the hip. Hawke smiled against his mouth when he did, then she straddled him and gripped her fingers into his hair, slanting her lips against his to deepen the kiss.

Her tongue was warm and insistent and he felt its every movement as it wrapped about his own, and it felt so good to finally have her so close. He let out a deep sigh, his cock twitching when Hawke mewled in answer.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he drew her closer, pulling her towards him with one hand at her lower back and the other tangling into her hair. She scooted her hips forward until the heat between her thighs was pressed against the hard ridge of his cock and she ground down into him, just the once, moaning into his mouth as she did. Sebastian gasped, pulling away from Hawke's lips to catch his breath as a strong current of pleasure pulsed through him. She moved her lips to his jaw next, kissing along to the hollow by his ear, and he let his head fall back against the chair.

"Sebastian," Hawke whispered, her voice low and rich in his ear. "I've waited a long time for this." She flicked her tongue against his earlobe, and then gently worried it between her teeth. He gasped again and closed his eyes. "For you."

Sebastian tried to speak, to agree, but then she rocked her hips against him again and all he could manage was a quiet grunt.

"I've had more than a few nights without sleep," she continued. Her lips glanced across the shell of his ear as she spoke, her breath warm on his skin. "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you; about what I wanted to do to you, and for you to do to me; about my lips wrapped around your cock, and yours against my cunt."

"Maker..." Sebastian groaned, bringing his hands down to cup her ass, his fingers digging in. It had been so long since another person had spoken to him in that way, so candid about their desire for him, and he found it more potent and heady than all of the wine and brandy they had drank together earlier.

Hawke rocked her hips again and he followed her movements with his hands, urging her on with a desperate grip.

Hawke leaned back slightly, her fingers moving to the top of Sebastian's trousers. She rubbed his cock through the fabric with her palm, stroking down, then up, then down again, calling forth a sharp groan from Sebastian.

"Tell me, Sebastian. Do you want the same?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, but his voice was still strained and thick when he spoke. "Never have I wanted anything more."

Hawke smiled and moved to kneel between his knees. She reached for his hips and guided him forward, and then worked at opening the closure of his trousers. His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of her fingertips glancing over the sensitive skin of his lower belly, and then it came out in a grunted rush when she wrapped a hand around his cock and pulled it free from his smalls.

She tugged his trousers down a little further and stroked him with her hand a few times, running the middle of her palm over his tip between each motion. Sebastian strained to keep his hips still, to not buck into her hand, but then she leaned forward and softly circled her tongue around the head, and he couldn't restrain himself. His hips canted upwards, but she was ready for him, taking him into her mouth, moving a hand to his lower belly to keep him still.

He looked down the length of his torso, at Hawke's hair swept to one side; her lips wrapped about his cock; her hand following closely behind her mouth as she worked him. The sight of her nearly made the feeling of her unbearable. It was too much and not enough all at once; he wanted his end to come but he didn't want to spend himself in her mouth, not already. There was nothing for it, though. She was working him to a fever pitch, humming quietly as she picked up her pace. Sebastian let out a small moan at the added friction, and reached a hand forward to tangle in her hair at the back of her head, following her movements.

After a few tortuous moments, Hawke pulled away slightly and drew the breadth of her tongue up the underside of Sebastian's cock, pressing into the vein there; his fingers tightened their hold and he grunted as his need intensified. He was close, no hope for it now, and he tried to call to Hawke, but her name stuck in his throat and he could only gasp.

Hawke didn't miss the signal, though; she leaned forward again, taking the whole of him back into her mouth as he came, humming around him again, her fingers curling against his belly where she still steadied him.

Sebastian let his head fall against the back of the chair, his arms falling limply at his sides, and tried to steady his breathing.  Hawke sat back on her heels, her hands moving to gently knead the muscles of his thighs. Sebastian leaned forward, reaching for Hawke to kiss her, but she leaned back at the same time, just out of reach.

"Come here," she said, shuffling back from the chair a bit further.

Sebastian followed, easing himself off of the chair and onto the floor, kneeling in front of Hawke. He reached for her again and now she didn't pull away; he clasped his hands behind her neck, his thumbs resting just under her cheekbones, and he kissed her insistently.

She kissed him back, her fingers gripping into the fabric of his tunic at his chest. She loosened the ties and pushed him back, hands dropping to the hem and tugging at it. He broke the kiss and pulled the tunic over his head, entirely without his customary grace. He ran his hands through his hair to put it back in place and sat back on his heels, watching as Hawke slowly, purposefully undid the clasps down the front of her dress.

One by one the metal closures opened, revealing more and more of her bared skin. She was making him wait, he knew, but he was thankful for the chance to savour it. For so many years’ worth of wanting, there was no sense in seeing it all done in a matter of minutes.

Still, though, Sebastian felt himself on the edge of frenzy. It'd been so easy to become swept up in Hawke when she'd been in his lap, and everything between that first kiss and that moment, as he watched her undress, had been a blur of desire and want, and need. He'd _needed_ her. He was a supplicant to every aspect of her, desperate for some sort of succour.

She knelt across from him, fully nude save for the small smile she wore. And then she reached for him, taking his hand and pulling him towards her as she rose to her knees. Their lips met in the middle and she wrapped her arms around his neck until her body was fully flush with his, and he felt consumed by the warmth of her. He braced a palm on the floor behind him and leaned back, angling them down until he lay on the floor, her on top of him, never once breaking their kiss.

Hawke sat up then, straddling his hips. Her hands ran lazy paths over his chest and shoulders, and he relished it; being pinned beneath her suited him fine. The dominance in her personality had always been attractive to him, and his fantasies of her had often involved him submitting to her in one way or another, or in many. And as he lay under her now, his mind swam with memories of the things he'd done with her in his mind. He felt the heat of her through the leather of his trousers, and suddenly he needed to taste her.

"Here. Come up here," he said, taking her by the waist and pulling her up his body. She shuffled along, letting him guide her until her knees came to rest on either side of his head.

"Oh, but you are clever." Hawke's voice was low as she looked down at him with a knowing smile, lifting up onto her knees.

Her bare cunt hovering over his face, Sebastian ran his hands down Hawke's sides and around to cup her ass. He kneaded the muscle and then lifted his head slightly, swiping the breadth of his tongue slowly along the length of her. She let out a sharp gasp at the contact, her hands gripping around Sebastian's wrists tightly. He repeated the motion, applying more pressure and then doubling back to circle the tip of his tongue around her clit.

Hawke's fingers tightened further, her fingernails digging into Sebastian's skin. Her reaction spurred him on, and he pulled her closer to him, burying his face into her, delving his tongue a short distance past her folds. Hawke moaned and let go of Sebastian's wrists, letting herself fall forward, resting her palms on the floor above Sebastian's head. He pushed his tongue into her further, thrusting it in and then out again, repeating the motion and building a rhythm. She sighed and mewled and rocked her hips slightly to match his pace.

Sebastian opened his eyes and looked up to see Hawke's head dropped between her arms, her mouth hanging slightly open and her eyes closed. He couldn't take his eyes from her face again, watching as her expression twitched and shifted slightly in answer to what he was doing to her. Seeing her react to his tongue sent a sharp current of his own pleasure coiling through his gut to end in a spark at his groin. He groaned into her, drawing out the hum against her skin. Her eyes opened then, meeting his, and she smiled at him briefly before she was caught up in a silent cry.

He kept his eyes on her, watching as she started to approach her end. He angled his head down slightly and rubbed the bridge of his nose hard against her clit. Hawke gasped and cried out his name, bucking her hips forward and he held his tongue to her, letting her ride out her orgasm against his face. She became every sense to him in that moment; everything he could see, smell, taste, and feel—a fantasy realised.

Hawke was still for a moment before she sighed and rolled onto her back next to Sebastian. "Maker's breath, Sebastian..."

Sebastian turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'd argue that _He_ played rather little part in that." He leaned down and placed a kiss to Hawke's shoulder, continuing a trail to her neck.

Hawke brought a hand to the back of Sebastian's head and curled her fingers into his hair. "Sacrilege," she whispered, arching her head back to expose her neck to Sebastian's lips. "I dare say it looks good on you."

Sebastian chuckled against Hawke's skin, nipping lightly her collarbone. "And I dare say being blissfully spent looks good on you."

Hawke hummed, something low that Sebastian felt vibrate in the hollow at the base of her neck. "Blissful, I'll give you, but still rather presumptuous, assuming that I'm spent."

The richness of her voice travelled like a slow wave straight through Sebastian and he quickly grew half-hard. He leaned further over her, covering half her body with his own and kissing her mouth.

"You are a temptation of the worst sort," he murmured against her lips, slowly rolling his hips forward into her side.

"And I feel not an ounce of guilt for it," she replied, sweeping her tongue into his mouth and spreading her free leg open to the side.

Sebastian took the invitation, ridding himself of his trousers and moving into the space between her legs. Hawke's kiss was tamer than before, and Sebastian fed off of her energy as he slowly sank into her. Hawke gasped quietly and dug her fingertips into Sebastian's shoulders on her exhale, her breath warm against his already-heated skin.

Sebastian's thrusts were slow and languorous as he focused on trying to commit the feel of her to memory. He wasn't so foolish as to assume that he may see her more regularly after this night, and if all he was to be left with was his memories, then he would strive for them to be as perfect as the moments themselves.

Hawke lay beneath him, all sighs and quiet hums with her mouth by his ear, her eager hands travelling from his shoulders to his waist, then to his ass. Sebastian kept his tepid pace, grinding his hips down into Hawke's each time they met as she lifted hers in time, trying to somehow sink himself into her deeper and deeper.

"Sebastian." Hawke's voice was little more than a breath but it burned through Sebastian's blood the same as when she'd cried it earlier.

She said his name a second time, and then he felt her hand slip into the space between their hips. Her breathing turned staccato and irregular, punctuated by barely-audible mewls. It was the sound of her need, of her approaching her end, and it tipped Sebastian over into something desperate. He thrust into Hawke harder, faster as he held his own breath, keening to hear every moment of Hawke's orgasm.

She came with a low moan and Sebastian relished in the feeling of her tightening around him, while her fingernails dug deeper into his skin. His own end came upon him then, coursing slowly through him as he gradually stilled his hips.

Hawke reached up and cupped Sebastian's face, smiling at him for a moment before she kissed him. It was gentle and deep, and he knew then that if there was one thing he could have to enjoy for the rest of his life, it would be a kiss such as that.

* * *

Sebastian awoke the next morning with his nose buried in Hawke's hair, his arm draped over her hip. They had moved to the chaise on the opposite side of the room some hours before. He didn't know how late into the morning it was, but by the rich tone of the sunlight through the window above them, he thought it must be near midday.

He lay that way, with Hawke tucked against his chest, for a short while, until she began to stir.

"Mmm," she mumbled, before being caught up in a yawn. "It feels late."

Sebastian chuckled. "I suspect it probably is."

"When are you due to meet with Bran?"

"Not for another few hours yet," Sebastian said, biting back his own yawn. "I'm not eager to go, of course--Bran does enjoy his gossip."

"Indeed he does. He enjoys nattering my ear off so frequently, I wonder whether he's attempting to surreptitiously drive me out of town."

"Well, if he were to, there would always be a bed for you in Starkhaven."

Hawke laughed. "One near to the Prince's quarters, I would hope."

"Near to, or inside... whatever your preference, m'lady."

"Such generosity. I suppose the least I ought to offer in return might be a bit of breakfast."

Sebastian smiled, drawing Hawke closer to him and resting his chin on her shoulder. "That'd be a start..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally meant to be kmeme fill, for an author's choice sort of prompt for Sebastian/f!Hawke, but as I wrote more and more of it, it started to deviate pretty far away from the few things that Anon had requested, so I decided to post it separately. Hope you've enjoyed, thanks for reading!


End file.
